Wow! A new post!

I know! A new Rocco post!
It's like winning the lottery, your birthday and Christmas all-in-one!

Sorry it's been so long overdue. But here is a good story for you.

We took Rocco & Molly for professional photos 2-weeks ago. Our local Humane Society offered photos with a pet photographer. My husband and I were really excited to have them photographed. We had them washed so they were clean and shiny, we gave them coordinating bandannas. They looked great! We were laughing in the car on the way there.
It was a great family moment.

And then we got there.

By the time it was our turn for photos, we had been sitting outside in the hot sun for 45 minutes (it was almost 80 degrees that day), the dogs were panting fools, their bandannas were lopsided, Molly was drooling and her bandanna was drenched, and my husband was throwing a temper tantrum.

You get the picture.

The lovely family moment was out the window and we had not even taken one photo yet.

We were finally summoned into the photography trailer, and the photography assistant was trying to arrange my dogs in a artistically pleasing way. They wanted the dogs staged on a platform.

Easy enough, right?

Nope.

Rocco kept trying to jump off and Molly kept looking at an invisible spot on the ceiling and would not look into the camera. When Rocco would sit, Molly would stand, and when Molly would sit, Rocco would stand. We could NOT coordinate them.
And the photographer kept blowing a high pitched whistle to get the dogs attention, but it would upset Rocco and he would bark and cry. My husband asked him to stop with the whistle. SEVERAL times. And for each photo the photographer would blow the whistle to get them to look into the camera but it would upset Rocco.

By the time my husband looked at me and said out loud "If he doesn't stop with the whistle I am going to shove that whistle up his a--" I knew our photo session was over. The photographer was only 2-feet away as I informed my husband through my clenched teeth.

The photos should arrive in 4-6 weeks, and $98 worth of photos later, I still don't know if it was worth it.

I'll let you know when the photos arrive.

That's MY Daddy!

Rocco LOVES his daddy.
LOES, LOVES, LOVES his daddy.
And he jealous of anyone that gets his daddy's attention.

So when Molly (who has trouble jumping onto the bed since her ACL surgery last year) jumped onto the bed yesterday morning to give HER daddy a kiss, Rocco went into jealously overdrive.

Here is the evidence.

First, he seems to trying to block daddy's view of Molly.



Then he just keeps moving closer.







Poor Rocco.
He has serious sibling rivalry.

Three Eyes

Although I am getting older, I am blessed with my mom's anti-aging gene. The gene where you look younger.
So even tho I am closer to my 50th birthday then, say, my 45th birthday, I am told that I don't look my age.

I am happy with that.

And during the past few years when my friends started to need reading glasses, I still had good vision.
I tormented my friends mercilessly.

I was happy with that.

So last year, when I finally needed those dreaded reading glasses, I chose to embrace the concept with a pair of designer reading glasses. If I needed reading glasses, I would not accept a pair of $1.99 drugstore glasses.
I bought a pair of $30 zebra striped reading glasses.
If I needed reading glasses, then dammit, I was going to make a statement!

And I was happy with that.

Love them ot hate them, everyone noticed my reading glasses.
So apparently, did Rocco.

I left them on the nightstand.
I KNOW! I KNOW!

The next morning, when I heard a "crunch" sound, I assumed it was Rocco eating his rawhide bone.
I KNOW! I KNOW!

I turned around to discover that it was not a bone, but my $30 reading glasses.
That now looked like this.





There is one lens missing and one arm missing.
I went from four~eyes to three~eyes in one crunch.

And I am not happy with that.

Especially since in desperation last night I actually put on those glasses, closed one eye (the one with out a reading lens) and tried to read the mail.

Sigh.
I guess I am much older than I thought that I was, since I looked like a crazy lady wearing those glasses.
I am thankful that my husband does not know how to work my camera or my picture would be on this blog today as well.

And I am HAPPY about that.

Snow Day

We had A LOT of snow last night.
And at 6:30 this morning, while we were doing this...




Rocco was doing this...


Apparently the pound cake that I left on the counter was irrestible.

And I thought we MIGHT be over this phase.

The difference between a dog owner and a non-dog owner

Rocco ate a $20 bill off the table on Wednesday.

Some things never change.

I know it was my fault. I left the cash on the table because I was going to the bank. It was there for maybe 5-minutes. I had several one dollar bills in the pile as well, but they did not attract Rocco's taste for the finer things in life.
When I discovered the remains of the $20, only half of it had been eaten, and the remaining part still had serial numbers on it.

So I took it to the bank anyway.

This is the true, unedited version of our conversation.

Me: Hi. I only have part of this bill, but the serial number is still on it...can I still deposit it?

Teller: (Brightly) I'm so sorry. You have to have all the pieces. Do you have the other part of this bill?

Me: (Sheepishly) Umm...I my dog ate it.

Teller: (Brightly) Well can you get the other half from him?

Me: (Confused) Umm...maybe in a few days?

Tell: (Brightly) A few days? Can't you get it now?

Me: Umm...it will probably be in the back yard in a few days, but if the snow comes, I might not find it until Springtime.

Teller: (Brightly) Springtime? That's just silly! Bring it back today and I will credit your account!

Me: Umm...I don't think you understand. The money will turn up when Rocco, umm, ...poops.

Teller: (Silence), then...
Teller: (Confusion), then...
Teller: (Shock) then...

Teller: (Horror) OH MY GOSH! YOU CAN'T BRING THAT MONEY IN HERE! We will NOT be able to credit you account!

That's what I thought.